Hold You Up
by oucellogal
Summary: Scotty's thoughts and experiences during and immediately after Lilly's shooting in 4x24, "Stalker," and reflections on just what she means to him. Rated T for some language. One-shot. Complete.


**A/N:** If I could pinpoint the moment when I became a Lilly/Scotty shipper, it would be the final three minutes of "Stalker," and although I've dealt with the shooting in a couple of my other stories, I've never truly written a post-"Stalker" story. So, seven years late, here it is. I hope it does the subject matter justice.

**Disclaimer:** These characters aren't mine, but they're fun to play with. I'll put them back when I'm done. Promise.

* * *

**Hold You Up**

I've never been real good at waitin'.

Can't sit still to save my life. Used to drive my mom crazy, always runnin' around the house crashin' into things, breakin' stuff. Guess that's why I always got to play outside as much as I wanted, even in the dead of winter.

Couldn't help it. I feel like a coiled-up spring more often than not. I'm okay sittin' for a little bit, but after a while I gotta get up and _do _somethin'. That's part of why I put my all into acin' that detective's exam, 'cause sittin' in a patrol car waitin' for some schmuck to run a red light got real old, real fast.

Seems like all I been able to do today, though, is wait. Wait for Lil to show up this mornin'. Wait outside after we found out that motherfucker took the office hostage. Wait around for orders, only to figure out that followin' those orders was gonna get everyone killed. _Screw waitin', _I decided. _I'm goin' in._

But even then, more waitin'. Waitin' in Interrogation, cursin' the fact that Lil was in Observation, on the wrong side of the glass. Waitin' for her to talk the bastard down, talk him into lettin' Kim Jacobi go. For her to outlast him, so maybe I wouldn't have to shoot blind.

No such luck. As soon as Kim slipped out, Lil started yellin', and I knew the all waitin' was over. Time to act. Time to finally _do _somethin'.

I rose up from in front of the table. Took half a second to collect myself, then squeezed the trigger.

_Bang. _

My gun kicked the palm of my hand as the glass shattered, droppin' to the ground like a curtain fallin' on a play. Got just a glimpse of Ed, but it was enough.

_Bang._

He toppled to the floor, and for a while, that's all I was focused on. Makin' sure he was down. Securin' the gun. Found the gun right there by his hand; kicked it away. At the sight of the bullet holes in his back, I was pretty sure he was toast, but I checked his pulse anyway.

Nothin'.

We're done here. It's all over. It's all gonna be-

"Lil!"

I'd almost forgotten about her, 'til Will said her name, and then I looked up, and…

Oh, _God._

"He got me."

Her blood was everywhere. Soakin' through her shirt, splattered on the dingy white wall, like some kid threw a water balloon filled with red paint. She left a bright smear of it as she slowly slid down, lookin' only a shade or two more alive than the bastard who shot her.

My first thought was that I had to catch her. I couldn't just stand there and watch her hit the floor all alone. I got to her just in time; me and Will both.

Her eyes were dull and glassy, like a doll's eyes, almost. A lot paler than their normal shade, starin' right at me, but not really _seein'_ me. She was so light in my arms; so little to hold onto I wondered if maybe part of her was already gone.

That's when I screamed at Will to get the paramedics.

Had to yell at him a second time before he finally lumbered off, and I just cradled her head to my chest, tryin' to keep as much of her here on Earth as possible. I felt her hair brushin' against my cheek. Remember thinkin' how soft it was, and how good it smelled, even through the smoke and the blood, and what a weird thing it was to notice at a time like this.

My heart was hammerin'. There was a lump in my throat the size of a softball; my terrified tears sneakin' outta my eyes and droppin' onto her forehead.

I shoved my fingers onto the hole in her chest, tryin' to stop the bleedin'. Stay in there, damn you. Stay _in_. Don't you dare abandon her like everyone else already has. You don't get to leave her, too. You _stay in there, goddammit._

But it just kept flowin', hot and slick, like my hand wasn't even there. Her blood crept out between my fingers, then around 'em, then all over the backs of 'em, makin' a bright red mockery of my attempts to stop it.

Somewhere along the line, I started tryin' to pray. Me and God ain't exactly on the best of terms. Fact is, I ain't even sure He's up there, not anymore, but I figured we needed all the help we can get. I start tryin' to dust off all the prayers I've known since I was a kid, but fragments were all my freaked-out brain could come up with, so I finally gave up and just started…talkin'.

_Not her, too, God. Madre de Dios, por favor. _Por favor._ Please, please, please, don't take her, too._

* * *

I didn't even hear the paramedics come in. Someone had to yell, "Sir!" three or four times before I felt firm hands on my arms and realized they were talkin' to me. They helped me up, and I remember seein' blood on my hand, her blood, Lilly's blood, her _life, _drippin' down my fingers and splashin' onto the floor. I thought about askin' the paramedics if there was some way they could maybe…I dunno, collect it somehow so they could put it back in her later, but I knew even then what a stupid-ass question it was, and anyway, they'd already forgotten I was even there.

Someone asked me what her blood type was, and I kept thinkin' that should be somethin' I'd know about my partner, but I don't know _anything_ about her. Not really. I don't know what she does for fun, if she even has somethin' she does for fun. I don't know what her favorite TV show is, what kind of music she listens to, whether she likes to go out for brunch on Sundays or whether she stays home and does the crossword puzzle. I got no idea about any of it.

I just know that's my _partner _there, lyin' on the floor, and all o' you with the white shirts and the oxygen masks…you better take damn good care of her. You hear me? You treat her like someone who means the world to you, 'cause that's what she is to me, and I've done all I can for her. You gotta do the rest.

First thing I did after they wheeled her out was head for the men's room and hurl up what seemed like everything I ate for the past two days. Sweaty and shaky afterwards, I turned on the faucet to rinse out my mouth and splash my face, but when I saw Lil's blood on my hands, I started gaggin' all over again, even though there wasn't anything left.

I'm crouched down right now, in Observation, lookin' at what's left of "Romeo." I _killed_ him. Ended his life.

Seems like I should prob'ly be feelin' somethin' about that.

They talked about it a lot in Academy; if you ever have to shoot someone, it's supposed to mess you up real good. You gotta give up your gun for a while, be on desk duty, go spend some quality time with the department shrink. I guess takin' a life is supposed to make you feel guilty.

But this bastard lyin' here in front of me? He ain't the one I feel guilty about.

I know I didn't do anything wrong. It was a good shoot. They talked a lot about that in Academy, too. Someone's tryin' to take out your partner, you take him out. End of story.

But what they don't tell you is what you're supposed to do if, despite doin' everything by the book, your partner gets shot anyway. Just a split-second quicker, and she'd be walkin' outta here, alive and well. Maybe she'd be sittin' here next to me, lookin' at Ed, makin' some smart-ass comment. _Yeah, yeah, yeah, you saved the day, Valens. You got to be a superhero. Whatever. Don't let it go to your head._

And I know there are some who'll probably call me a hero, if she pulls through. But a hero is the last thing I feel like right now.

Half a second. That's all I needed. One more goddamn half a second.

_Please, God. Please. Don't let half a second be the difference between her livin' and her dyin'. _

_Please don't take her, too._

* * *

I finally made it to the hospital. Had to wait for an official police escort, which I thought was bullshit. I wanted to run there. It's only a couple miles, and the way I feel right now I coulda got here in about a minute and a half, but they had to make it all official. Had to get my blood drawn, get a complete workup, make sure I wasn't drunk or stoned. The nurse's eyebrows shot up past her hairline when she took my blood pressure, but she didn't say a word.

First thing I did when I got outta there was sprint down the hall to the waitin' room, where everyone else was. Boss, still a little pale, with his arm in a sling. Miller, next to him, playin' with her necklace. Vera, lookin' like someone just killed his dog, and Will, lookin' around like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

That makes two of us, pal.

"How is she?" My heart's so far up in my throat I can barely get the words out.

Boss glances up at me, gives me the once-over. "They just took her in to surgery."

My stomach's churnin' again. "They say anything else?"

Silence. They won't even make eye contact.

"Hey. Talk to me." I look at each of my colleagues in turn. "She gonna make it?"

Boss reaches up, puts a hand on my shoulder. "They're not sure yet, Scotty."

My blood turns to ice at his words.

"It could be a while." Boss glances at the empty chair to his right. "Why don't you sit down?"

Well, I got nothin' better to do.

For a while, it's all good. The adrenaline rush of the shootin' is over, I'm spent, and it feels kinda nice to just sit. Catch my breath. Stare at that little refrigerator full of flowers and let my mind go blank. Just for a little bit.

But like I said, I can't sit still for long. Before too long, my leg starts tappin'. My hand runs through my hair a few times. I shift this way and that, tryin' to get comfortable, but I don't think it's possible in these chairs. Outta habit, I grab a coffee from the little machine in the corner, but at the smell of it, my stomach rebels. I set the coffee to the side.

My heart's still beatin' like crazy, and I'm startin' to feel trapped. Suffocated. Too small a room, with too many people, too many emotions, just too _much…_

"Scotty." Miller pokes her head out from the other side of Boss. "Why don't you go run a couple laps or something? You're makin' us all crazy."

Vera shoots her a glare, but she doesn't back down. "What? We're all thinkin' it."

Nicky doesn't deny it.

I don't need any more encouragement. I vault outta my seat like the damn thing's on fire and head out to the hallway, where I start pacin'. Back and forth. Back and forth. It ain't runnin', like I wanna be doin', but I could run to Jupiter and back and it still wouldn't make me feel any better.

Besides, Lil's here. And where Lil is, I ain't leavin'. Not in a million years.

* * *

It's a strange, tense kinda quiet in these hallways. Don't matter what kinda drama's goin' on behind these doors; people healin', people dyin', but the whole thing's just this weird, foamy hush. Occasional beeps pop into my awareness, the soft paddin' of the nurses' footsteps, the clatter of a cleanin' bucket rollin' down the hall. A muffled-soundin' voice is pagin' some doctor over the intercom. Not sure who this Dr. Shepherd is or what he's needed for, but I sure hope he ain't for Lil, 'cause he's takin' his sweet time.

Smells funny in here, too; some weird combination of antiseptic and cleanin' solution, but it's all just some artificial whitewash for all the blood and gore and death that's goin' on behind these closed doors. Don't know who they're tryin' to kid.

The smell of death has been everywhere today. I could even get a whiff of it at Lil's house this mornin'. Her mom died overnight, they'd probably taken her away first thing this morning, but there was still that eerie stillness, the strange sense of a soul that ain't been gone for too long. Parta Lil was floatin' around in outer space somewhere, too; ain't sure where she was, or whether she's comin' back.

_Not her, too, God. Madre de Dios, por favor, not her, too._

My hand finds its way to my hair again, like it always does when I'm freakin' out. Through it, down the back, then up again, to the front. I keep this up, I won't have any hair left by the time I'm forty. Just like my _abuelo_.

He's gone, too. Gone. One by one. Lights snuffin' out of the people I love.

There's a hand on my left shoulder, and I just about jump outta my skin, thinkin' it's someone with some kinda news. But it ain't. It's just that ball-bustin', pain-in-my-ass ADA Alex Thomas.

What the hell is _she _doin' here? She ain't one of us. This some kinda political move to her? Show up and make nice with the poor cop whose partner got shot?

"I heard. I'm so sorry, Scotty."

"Yeah." My voice ain't workin' quite right. Doesn't even sound like mine. "Thanks."

"How is she?"

"They, uh…they don't know yet."

"Do you need anything? Coffee? Water? Shitty hospital food?"

"I'm fine." I glance over at her, try to read her wide-set green eyes, figure out what her angle is. "I just…kinda need to be alone."

Same thing Lil said to me this mornin'. Kinda funny, in a twist-your-stomach-in-knots sorta way.

To her credit, Alex respects that. Says somethin' about bein' here if I need anything, then slips down the hall, outta sight and outta mind.

In a strange way, I can kinda relate to her. This mornin', when I went to see Lil, I knew there wasn't a damn thing I could say or do to make her feel better. So I did the only thing I could think of, which was give her a blank check. Let her know I was there for her. Anything. She already knew that, but I had to make sure. There ain't a thing in the world I wouldn't do for her.

But now there ain't a thing in the world I _can _do for her. She's on a table, bein' cut open, her life in the hands of some doctor who doesn't know her name, doesn't know how brilliant and passionate and funny and beautiful she is. She's just a day's work to this schmuck, whoever he is.

The thought makes me wanna choke, and I start to loosen my tie. That's when I notice the blood on it.

Blood.

Her blood. Lilly's blood.

On my tie.

My favorite one, too. Until today. And now, now all I see is the blood, and the fact that this might be the only thing I have left of Lil.

What if it is? I don't want my brain to go there, but it's goin', and I can't do a damn thing about it.

What if I never get to see her again? Never see those gorgeous sapphire blue eyes, that beautiful blonde hair? Never get to be in the interview room with her, workin' together to bring a murderer to his knees? Never see the quiet satisfaction on her face when we write 'Closed' on a box and put it back on the shelf? What if I never hear her voice again, never hear her laugh at one of my smart-ass comments, never see that blindin'sunshine of a smile?

Thinkin' about life without Lil is like havin' a big-ass hole gouged outta my heart. I just…can't imagine comin' to work and her not bein' there. It hurts so bad, thinkin' about it, I can't even breathe. It's like my lungs just refuse to work if they know she ain't there. My heart won't wanna keep beatin'. The thought of livin' without Lil just seems impossible. Ain't sure I can do it.

Wasn't sure I could live without Elisa, either, though…and here I am. Somehow. It's been over two years now, two years since I've looked into those chocolate brown eyes, seen that adorable dimpled smile, heard that sweet voice, smelled that vanilla perfume she always wore, and…

Wait, why the hell am I thinkin' about Elisa?

I ain't thought about her like this for a long time. Fact is, I don't think about her much at all, not anymore, and when I do, it's with quiet nostalgia, 'stead of that white-hot, crushin' pain. No, now there's…there's someone else I think about. Someone else who's taken over that space in my heart, whose name is on my lips when I'm hoverin' between wakin' and sleepin', someone else who I wanna share all my days and all my nights with…and that someone is…

…oh, _God. _

You gotta be _kiddin' _me.

I can't be…no. No, that's not right. I can't…not for…

She's just my partner. My friend.

Ain't she?

I've always been, y'know, _attracted_ to her. Truth be told, the first time I thought about kissin' her was about five minutes after I met her. Y'know, after I got over the shock. I'd heard so much about this Detective Rush that I had an image in my mind of what he'd look like. Big guy. Tough as nails. Fought a lotta battles and had the scars to prove it. Last thing in the world I expected was this tiny, beautiful blonde, and a prickly one at that.

I ain't blind; I know a lotta women find me attractive. But this one? She was all business. Like an icicle with a messy blonde wig on top. And…well, I like a challenge. I started wonderin' what it'd take to melt all that ice.

What would she do if I tucked a lock of that silky hair behind her ear? Would she glare at me, or would those frosty blue eyes thaw just a little bit? What would she do if I let my thumb caress her cheek? What-what would she do if I kissed her? Would she moan in quiet delight? Would she turn the tables on me and press me up against the wall and kiss me back until we both saw stars? Or would she knee me in the nuts and file a sexual harassment suit? Knowin' the Ice Queen, prob'ly that last one, which is why I never tried anything. Sure was fun to think about, though.

But I thought that was just attraction. Attraction and love are miles apart. You can have the first without the second. But somewhere along the line, somewhere after Elisa, after I could open my eyes in the morning and not immediately have 'em fill with tears, after I could walk and breathe and exist without the weight of soul-crushin' pain, after I got through all of that…somehow Lil just got into my heart when I wasn't lookin'.

And I thought I'd locked my heart up and thrown away the key. I'd never planned on fallin' in love again, 'cause it hurt too damn much when it ended. And Lil? God, she's the _last _woman I should be feelin' this way for. So many reasons I can't even list 'em all. But despite all the reasons I shouldn't be and all the reasons I never thought I would be…I'm in love. Again.

And, once again, I'm starin' down the barrel of a gun full of pain, the gun that I thought I'd only have to take one bullet from. Because before the day's out, I might be losin' her, too.

She might…she might already be gone.

My hand digs through my hair over and over. The legs I'm pacin' the hall on start feelin' a little wobbly. The lump in my throat's so big it's chokin' me, and those tears are floodin' my eyes all over again. Before I know it, they're everywhere. I can't stop 'em if my life depended on it. They're slippin' out between my fingers, just like Lil's blood was earlier.

_Okay, God, I tried nice. I tried askin'. But this time, I ain't askin.' I'm _tellin' _You. You have_ _to save her. You _have_ to._ _You can't let her die, 'cause I can't live without her. You can't do this to me again. Not after Elisa. You can't. You can't. You _can't.

_I don't even care if she ever loves me back. I don't care if we're never in a relationship. I don't care if I never know what it's like to kiss her, to hold her hand, to hold her close to me. Whatever. I don't care. I'll do anything. Madre de Dios, por favor…I'll do anything. _Anything. _Just let her live. Let her live. Don't take her from me, too. Please. Not her, too. Not her, too. Not her, too._

All of a sudden I can't get enough air. I'm gaspin' for breath like I would be if I'd just sprinted up the stairs of the Comcast Center. I'm drippin' sweat, my heart is practically beatin' outta my chest, and I can't fuckin' _breathe. _My whole body feels like it's whirlin' around, flyin' apart.

What…what the hell is this? Am I havin' a panic attack? A _heart _attack? Am I dyin', too?

Get it together, Valens. As long as the doc hasn't come out, Lil's still got a chance. And as long as she's still got a chance, you have _got _to get your shit together. You're no good to her like this. You're no good to _anyone _like this. You gotta breathe. In and out. In and out. C'mon. In and out. You can do this.

I'm slumped against the wall, eyes closed, scrubbin' the sweat and tears from my face, tryin' to get myself outta whatever vortex I got sucked into.

Just breathin'. _Breathin'._

I sure as hell hope Lil's doin' the same thing.

I've just gotten myself under control, just found the strength to stand up again, when the door to the waitin' room clatters open.

"Scotty?" It's Miller. "They're callin' us back."

All the blood drains from my face. My stomach feels like it's gnawin' on itself. My heart's beatin' a mile a minute. Everything starts spinnin' around again.

_Breathe_, Valens. In and out. Breathe.

Kat's lookin' at me all worried. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I can barely get the word out.

She gives me that look of hers, that _don't be such a fuckin' moron_ look she usually reserves for Vera, although I can't think of anyone in the squad who hasn't been on the receivin' end of it at some point.

"One of these days, you're gonna figure out you can't lie to me." She's smilin' as he says it, and her hand finds its way to my back. I go numb and mute as she guides me down the hall. I feel like I'm on my way to my own execution.

* * *

The rest of the squad is already there when we get into that tiny little room. There's only two chairs in there; Boss has one of 'em. The other one's empty, but no way in hell am I sittin' down for this.

When the doc comes in, he can barely squeeze in the door thanks to all of us. His scrubs are splattered with blood. Same blood that's on my tie.

_Oh, please, please don't let that be all that's left of her._

The doc looks around, kinda puzzled. "I'm sorry. Immediate family only."

"Hey, her mother died last night." I'm surprised to hear myself speak. "We're the only family she's got."

The doc looks like he might be about to say somethin' else, but we're all starin' daggers at him, and the look in his eyes suggests he's got better things to do than argue technicalities with a bunch of cops. _Good thinkin', buddy._

He opens his mouth to speak, and time seems to stand still. I wanna memorize everything about this moment, the stale, insipid smell of this crowded room, the poundin' of my heart, the coppery taste of my own fear, the stoic looks on the faces of the four other people in here with me…'cause this could be it. This could be the last moment I got any kinda hope. This could be the last moment of_ Before_ before I'm plunged headfirst into the bone-chillin' waters of _After._

"It was touch and go for a while; we almost lost her…but she's going to be just fine."

There's a loud whooshin' sound; don't know if it's five of Philly's finest lettin' out a collective breath, or whether it's just my own blood roarin' in my ears. The doc's still talkin', somethin' about a collapsed lung, some kinda artery, and I don't even know what all, 'cause I don't care. Lil is alive. She's alive.

_She's alive._

Someone's hand squeezes my shoulder, I dunno whose, but that firm, supportive gesture makes it real. Waves of relief start washin' over me, crashin' through me, turnin' all my insides to water. I'm _drownin' _in relief.

It's so intense that all of a sudden my legs won't work. I got tunnel vision. My heart, my insides, everything's liquid.

"Scotty?" Miller's voice, from what seems like a thousand miles away.

"Oh, shit, he's goin' down," someone says, Vera, I think, and suddenly a pair of firm, strong arms is grabbin' me around the middle and helpin' me stagger to that empty chair. Miller's arms.

Damn. That woman's stronger than she looks.

"Sit down, Scotty. Sit down and put your head between your legs."

I do like she said. I'm nauseous again, and I musta communicated that somehow, 'cause a trash can appears under me. I retch once or twice, but nothin' comes up.

Miller's hand is rubbin' circles on my back. "It's okay, Scotty. It's okay."

It's like she's givin' me permission to be a mess, permission to completely lose my shit for what feels like the fifth time today, and that starts a whole new ocean of tears. I couldn't hold 'em back if I tried.

_Thank you. Oh, God, oh, Jesus, thank you. Thank you. Gracias a Dios, gracias, gracias, gracias, thank you, thank you._

* * *

She looks terrible.

Understandable, considerin' she's been through hell and back. Her hair's a mess; her skin is even paler than normal, and she's still. _So_ still.

But she's breathin'. And because of that…Lilly Rush, right now, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I watch her from the doorway for a moment, almost scared to go inside, scared I'll hurt her somehow, so I'm just watchin' her. Listenin' to the quiet beep of the heart monitor. Revelin' in the fact that I love her, I _love her_, so much it takes my breath away…and she's alive.

As usual, though, I finally get tired of waitin'. I go inside, grab the chair from across the room, and scoot it close to her bed, dodgin' all the machines and wires and everything else she's hooked up to. Sink down into it, lean my arms on my knees, and just watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

In and out, Lil. In and out. Good girl. Keep breathin'. Keep beatin' your heart. Because I need you. I thought about what it'd be like to live without you, and I can't do it. I can't live a single day on this hellhole of a planet without you by my side, makin' me smile, makin' me laugh, makin' me work that much harder to stay in your good graces. I _need_ you, Lil. I need you to be here for me, like I am for you. I won't rock the boat and tell you how I feel. Not now.

For now, you're alive, and it's enough.

There's a chunk of her hair lyin' across her face, and before I can talk myself out of it, my hand's reachin' up and brushin' it back, tuckin' it behind her ear. Her hair…oh, God, her hair is so soft. It's like silk between my fingers. Her skin's soft, too. She looks so fragile, lyin' here, but I know how tough she is underneath.

Her eyes flutter open just a sliver at my touch. A brilliant deep blue, such a welcome touch of color in this world of beige and white.

I feel myself smilin' for what feels like the first time in years as I gently take her hand in mine.

"Hey," I whisper.

Her eyes fall closed, but not before her lips curve in a shadow of a smile.


End file.
